Sorcerer Supreme at Hogwarts (English Versión)

Chapter 65: "Wanda's POV"



"Wanda's POV"

After saying something that really upset Stephen, I was sitting here trying to hold back my laughter.

I should probably start from the beginning, right?

There I was, like a puppet, controlled by destruction, greed, and chaos.

When you have three super-powerful entities trying to control you, the only thing left to do is simply float wherever you are, waiting for your release.

In the darkness or the abyss.

For some reason, I could see other universes, and it was the only thing keeping me sane. Obviously, mentally, since my body was destroying realities.

So, while I saw all the versions of me being happy, some not so much, I found it.

An anomaly just like me. But he had full control over himself. At first, he had to stay hidden, but I noticed him.

I felt a bit of envy toward him, since after breaking free from his bonds, he could do whatever he wanted with his power.

He didn't care about helping; in fact, maybe that entertained him, and he made friends everywhere, without distinction.

He even fixed Wanda's life in his world so she could live with her husband and children.

To be honest, that made me even more jealous.

And at the same time, I wanted to be part of his friends. I wanted him to save me like he did with others.

Although his smug smile sometimes awakened an evil feeling in me, I wanted to punch him.

It's a strange feeling, but fun at the same time. The last time I felt like this was with my twin brother. The brother my body killed without compassion. I could see it, as if it was being shown to me to control me even more, although I could complain.

I saw how every single one of my family members was killed by me.

The only thing I had left was to try to use the Phoenix Force, an entity that, apparently, I couldn't control.

At least it made the chaos within me have something to entertain itself with.

Until, while floating in space as a seal, I came across something called the Goblin Force.

A destructive force that, honestly, I don't know where it came from.

And that's when everything got worse.

Only destruction came every day, week, month, year.

One day, I saw the man who caught my attention finally finish his work and become free.

Free, a word I could only say with words.

His name was Stephen. Or Dr. Strange. I saw him hand over his tasks to Wanda and slowly walk away with that smug smile.

That ignited a fury in me. Not because of Stephen or his smug smile, or maybe I did. It was because of me. I didn't seek my freedom like Stephen did.

He fulfilled all his purposes to be free, and here I am, still floating in the abyss.

So, suddenly, I felt like I could get out and fight my other companions.

But instead, I used the little awareness I had left to tempt others to fight the only one who could stop them.

I felt a little guilty, but I also wanted his help.

I also wanted to be free, and maybe he could stop me.

If he did, I would ask for his forgiveness. And maybe we could be friends.

When I arrived and he saw me, or my strange combination of personalities…

For a moment, I smiled when I saw him lose his smug smile. Maybe I was projecting my brother Pietro onto him. That's why it bothered me so much.

The fight finally started. To avoid hurting his friends and family, he took me to the edge of the solar system.

I also wanted to be part of his family. Maybe his parents would want to adopt me. Although after this, I don't think so.

Our fight lasted for months. Always at the same level, which caused changes in several solar systems.

For some reason, Stephen was smiling like a madman. Maybe it was the first time he fought with all his power.

That made me smile too. We were truly two psychopaths fighting with everything we had.

I realized that, even so, he was trying to help me come to my senses, and even though he almost succeeded at times, at one point there was no salvation.

So, before he lost all hope of pulling me out of that place, I begged him to kill me.

I really didn't want to go back to that place; I preferred to die. Too bad we couldn't be friends or family.

Although before I lost control, he tried to be cool and told me: "I hope that if you're reborn, you can be free."

That made me embarrassed, though I asked that if I were reborn, I would be like his older sister. Though I know it was just a plea into the air.

What left me speechless was the way he chose to stop me.

He literally exploded. Seriously, you crazy bastard? Wasn't there a better way?

Well, I'm nobody to say, but that was really cool. Maybe he can be the older brother in the next life.

As I watched the last ray of light, waiting for my disappearance, something… strange happened.

I revived. Or rather, I was reborn.

I appeared in front of an old, quite strange house. And before I could even scream, a kind lady came out the door and saw me.

She took me inside, cared for me, and fed me. And in the end, she adopted me.

It happened so fast I couldn't process it all. In my defense, I was a baby who could only stay awake for a couple of hours, so…

Although I was happy to be reborn, free, and all that, I still lived with guilt over Stephen's death.

I also felt a bit lonely, and although the grandmother who adopted me was always by my side, I didn't have a family.

Quite a few sad thoughts for a baby, huh?

The grandmother, seeing my loneliness, enrolled me in a magical kindergarten. Yes, magical, didn't I say that? The grandmother who adopted me was a witch. And quite powerful in her time.

It seems I was too, because when I cried, the house would shake. Great, another witch...

But it seems witches were pretty normal. Not everywhere, though, since they lived hidden, but there was a well-spread world of magic.

Back to the magical kindergarten, it was quite clumsy. The kids were cute, but annoying at the same time.

And that's when I saw him.

A blonde boy with blue eyes, exuding magic wherever he passed, pretty intelligent for his age, and I knew the moment I saw him.

He was my brother. I mean, aside from his appearance being exactly like mine—hair and eyes—I could feel it in my blood and his.

A skill I noticed we shared when he told a classmate he had a hereditary curse. Haha, something that made his classmate cry.

So, I stayed away. I wanted to see how he was. If he could accept me, if he knew who our parents were. We were quite handsome and strong, so they should be very beautiful and powerful.

When I was about to introduce myself as his older sister, what I least expected happened, and it shattered my hopes of having a real family.

Don't get me wrong, I love my grandmother, but I wanted a connection.

So, while I was heading towards where he was training or playing with his friends, I heard his name, something that left me stunned for a moment: "Stephen."

Seriously? Quite a… bad coincidence.

But that didn't stop me; after all, it's just a name. Until I heard what they were talking about.

The mystic arts, and that Stephen was trying to recreate Eldritch magic.

Seriously? How did I not realize? I mean, I fought to the death with him for months, I should have recognized those movements while he trained.

We also went to kindergarten almost every year, and I just now find out his name.

In my defense, in the other life, it took me more years to learn his name.

But I recognized him. He was the Stephen who stopped me, dying with me along the way.

And so my guilt resurfaced. Especially when I found out that he didn't have parents either, but grandparents.

Although they didn't shout it from the rooftops, it was obvious he was adopted. After all, his grandparents are the Flamel couple.

Supposedly, the Flamel family adopted him from a pureblood noble French family. But I knew he was like me.

There went my dream of meeting my brother and my parents. And being the older sister, because I promised he would be it. Damn.

The worst part is that guilt kept me from getting close to him. After all, he lost everything because of me.

And even though I finally found my family, my brother… I couldn't be with him. So, I ran away.

I dyed my hair. That wasn't hard; magic makes everything easy. I used makeup so I wouldn't look like him, just in case I crossed paths with him. After all, we both lived in France.

I even chose Ilvermorny, thinking he would opt for Beauxbatons, but it seems he went to Hogwarts and even moved.

How weird.

As I grew, I kept hearing about him all the time, winning tournaments and showing his strength. As his sister, I felt proud, but also conflicted.

So, I also started recovering my magic. And well, it wasn't that hard. After all, my magic is more about feeling it. I just had to do "fush, wass, paw" and I learned it.

Although when I explained it to others, they looked at me strangely. What fools.

I wanted to learn about the Eldritch magic book Stephen published under a pseudonym, but it was pretty technical and required a lot of study. Without a teacher, it was difficult.

So, I could only create simple weapons, though it was easier for me to use my own magic.

After years of escaping Stephen, my grandmother found out.

She got a little mad at me for being a coward, but she supported me.

When she got sick, I left school to take care of her. Obviously, I was going to take my exams, so I was always the first in class.

It's a shame grandma couldn't use the life potion like the Flamels.

She, as a doctor, used a different way to extend her life almost 300 years, but that made it so she couldn't prolong it further, or her soul would be destroyed.

As a goodbye, she left me a bombshell that blew up in my face.

She brought the Flamels home and told them about my existence. Leaving them, and me, completely stunned.

Then she passed away with a smile, while asking Mrs. Perenelle to take care of me. And so, she started turning to dust that flew out the window.

It was a spell she put on herself before dying, since she didn't want a funeral or anything like that.

I was very sad until I heard Mrs. Perenelle's call. Then I got really nervous.

Every minute that passed increased my anxiety. I wanted to run, but I couldn't even get up from the chair.

Until I heard the arrival of two guests. I knew who they were: the ones who would probably become my brothers.

It was a weird mix of emotions.

I tried to calm down and sit comfortably, not showing vulnerability.

I didn't know if he would recognize me just by the blood we shared. And, for some reason, an intrusive thought told me to show who I was.

That thought won. Just before Stephen opened the door, I changed my clothes to the ones I wore in the last moment before I died.

I tried to keep a big smile and apologize with all my being.

But when Stephen opened the door, he looked at me… and then closed it. He then started doing his nonsense in the next room. That pissed me off.

It really made me angry. I didn't want to apologize to that fool anymore. He's supposed to be my brother, and he despises me like that?

I mean, I know it was my fault, but get over it! Thanks to me, he met that pretty blonde from France, when he couldn't even hold a woman's hand before.

Should I steal his girlfriend in revenge? I mean, she's cute, and I look just like him. But I better get that violent thought out of my head. I'm not going to do that.

After thinking about it for a second, I didn't want to apologize anymore. Brothers don't need that. They just show their love by making each other's lives miserable, right?

For some reason, I couldn't control the big smile on my face. When I heard he was coming back in, I kept smiling.

At least, as the mature sister that I am, I'm going to apologize first. Then I'll make his life miserable.

To my older brother…

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